Mikaelson Women
by Memories Of The Bittersweet
Summary: Klaus' thoughts and feelings about two Mikaelson women at the end of 4x07. I put a little coda on that I think they hould have put in the episode, but oh well.


It was relatively quiet on the main street, a little surprising considering the date. Although there were no giant festivals to bring in the number of revellers this little part of the US was famous for, this was NOLA; there were always events going on. They were big and small, known throughout the world or just by local inhabitants. Luckily for the locals during this slight downtime, the revellers either had enough respect to keep it down in the more residential area or manners were imposed. It did help that, at least in the French Quarter, nothing significant was happening.

Years ago Klaus would have partaken in their mini celebrations, despite his preference for the bigger festivals; tourists would be in and out in a day or two. There would a substantial supply of blood, whereas now probably the biggest thing was the festivity on Fulton Street; it might not be enough the get a fix unscathed. However, it wasn't something he did anymore. All of his blood came from a blood bank, not even the humans who solicited themselves to vampires piqued his interest. Hope was Klaus' everything and he was keep her from with monstrosity or as long as possible.

Seeing those bodies, those limbs former attached to torsos splayed around that prison with his daughter's bracelet splashed with blood made him not only fear the worse about her, but that she had finally seen what her family were capable of. No, not her family: Marcel, their enemy. The man had tortured and imprisoned him for five years. And now he had Hope. Klaus hated him. Really he did, no matter how much his dear brother thought he hesitated. He _was_ the enemy!

Now Klaus strode up the alleyway leading from the dungeon beneath the Mikaelson mansion. Hope's still bloodied bracelet burnt a hole in his pocket. He glanced around, spinning the street trying to look at everywhere with his enhanced vision. He couldn't see her. Right. Left. Klaus heard his blood rush through him as he stepped onto the main street. On the roof. In the shops. Those bloody tourists walk right passed him, obstructing his view for just a second, but might have given Marcel enough time.

Just to his left, on a bench in the middle of street he saw a shaved brown head atop a well-muscle form.

"Marcel!"

Klaus smelt her before he saw her. Honey and Shea butter from the shampoo she used. Fresh dandelions, she liked to picked them in the park or the bayou. She always said she wanted a garden; he might make her one on the roof. The slightly solvent smell of the paint he had recently bought for her. The blood of a Mikaelson witch. His littlest wolf: Hope.

Her long ginger hair swung around and Hope ran to him. He wished that he could ignore Marcel, but his muscular frame rose from the bench and he looked nothing but dutiful. Not to Klaus of course, but to Hope, to a child who was probably scared and in danger. But Klaus couldn't accept his generosity, he was still the enemy and Klaus made him aware of that. His returning stare held not an ounce of gratitude.

Klaus' attention returned to his littlest wolf as she bobbed to a stop before him.

"Dad." She looked at his sides. "What happened?"

The blood. He still had the Hollow's henchmen's blood on his hand and his daughter could see it. She would now, finally she would know what her family was, what he was. He couldn't allow it; he had to preserve her innocence a little longer.

"It's uh, it's paint. I made quite a mess, didn't I?" His feigned laughter did not fool her. She was seven, not stupid. But what more could he do? Spell it all out for her, the evil he wrought? Or maybe he could trust her. She knew he was strong enough to protect her, but did she know how? Did she truly know what he was? Klaus smiled, he _must_ keep the illusion alive.

Her little peach eyebrows knitted ever so slightly.

"Where's Mum?" Suspicion was light in her voice, but to her father it felt like he had been struck with that sledgehammer he wielded just minutes ago.

"She's at home, waiting for you." He knelt so she would not have to strain her neck. Her bracelet was still held securely in his pocket. That golden cord had protected her from one of his most feared enemies and now it protected her from herself. Eventually she would be taught to be a great witch, but she was too young right now and she knew it wasn't safe to remove it. For a moment he felt like admonishing her. "Are you ok? You took your bracelet off."

"Dad, don't be mad. I- I let Marcel out and he kept me safe." Klaus' heart tightened. She was genuinely worried; he was glad not to smell any fear on her. He might not have been able to handle that. Looking into her anxious sky blue eyes, all of the fear he didn't realise still held him washed away.

"I'm not angry, sweetheart. Come here." Then she was in his arms warm and safe, his little girl.

"Don't be mad with Marcel either; he's my friend." She said it so innocently, but she knew it was a big ask. No she was not stupid, not at all. He may have saved her life, but he committed great crimes against their family. Against him! One could not simply stop being mad at the man who had taken five years of a daughter's life with her father. Mad wasn't even close to the word that should be used to describe Klaus' warring feelings.

His son, his pupil, his teacher, his brother. And now what were they? _Hope, you cannot ask this of me. You should not_. He searched her eyes. How could he deny her?

He nodded imperceptibly, but she took that as a guarantee and smiled. She turned back to Marcel jerked her hands before she hugged her father once again. Klaus suspected it was a thumbs-up. She'd made a little plan had she? _Well_ , Klaus thought smiling, _I have to admire her bravery._ Marcel flashed away as Klaus picked her up.

"Dad, I can walk."

"I know." _I know, but I just want to hold you._

For a time she allowed him to carry her but by the time they walked through the arch of their family's mansion, they were walking side by side. Along the way she had reached for his hand, but he had shoved them in his pockets. He would get back and scrub his hands clean but for now Klaus had put a slight crack in their relationship. They walked back in silence.

As they walked through the arch he was glad to see the bodies and blood had been cleared away. A fresh coat of bleach covered everything. He really did appreciated having on-call cleaners who asked no questions. In that moment, when they walked into their residence with ease, he was reminded why that was the case and this face grew dark. Hope, Hayley, their sanctuary, it had all been put in danger because of witchy bastard. He could not have been speaking the truth; Klaus would find his sister alive and well, but he must find her now. New dread shrouded him.

"Mum!"

Hope ran ahead of him and Hayley scooped her up, rocking with unbridled joy. After a moment Hope scrambled down; clearly she was very tired of being carried.

"Why don't you go up to bed, honey; I just need to speak to your dad. I'll be up in a moment." Hayley kissed her forehead and Hope waved goodnight to her dad with a little smile. She scampered up the stairs and Klaus instantly regretted not giving her a proper goodnight. There was no time for pleasantries however; he needed to get a hold of Elijah. God, he should have done that immediately, but he was so worried about Hope! It had to be a lie.

He pulled out his phone. Elijah's and Freya's numbers were both at the top of his call list. His hand hesitated above her number. He should call her. She would answer. Freya would answer.

Klaus was still hesitating when Hayley lightly gripped his wrist. Her voice was soothing and sympathetic when she said, "She's in the wine cellar."

Klaus took a breath. He knew it had been a lie; his dear sister had some explaining to do. A 'thank you' was on the tip of his tongue, but he inclined his head and strode to the next room. A sigh and retreating footsteps sounded behind him.

True to Hayley's word, Freya was there. Truly, he had to sigh in relief. Again, that crushing fear washed away. After Finn, after that gruesome vision the Hollow gave him, he was pleased to see her alive and well. At least she mostly looked well, a little pale and slightly bruised, but you cannot be a Mikaelson without a good fight or two. Clearly she had held her own. She stood beside the table in the cellar, pouring herself a small glass of wine with a bottle from the top of the self. She glided back to the back where her laptop sat. Freya wobbled before reaching the chair, hand on the back of her neck. Klaus rushed forward.

"Sister." Whatever stoicism he had counted upon melted in an instant. He had his arms wrapped around her before he could think. He heard her heart beat, smelt her warm witch blood and he knew she was safe. They parted but he still held her shoulders. "You're injured."

"Just a little pain in my neck, it'll pass." She said with a smirk. His concern might be going, but he was not in an overly joyous mood. In fact whatever she had done to allow that Hollow-following fool to get the upper hand could have cost Hope her life.

"What happened? The boundary spell disappeared. Hope was in danger, Freya." He did not stop the menace from leaking into his voice.

"I had Dominic contained. He was stronger than I thought; he broke out and stopped my heart." She shrugged off his steadying hands and spoke quite matter-of-factly. Not a wince or pinch of fear. Good.

Klaus was quite intrigued. Slowly he inquired, "You used a protection spell?"

Though she breathed no faster, sweated not a touch and looked him straight in the eyes without blinking, her heart pumped at a mile a minute. "Yes." She said without hesitation. Freya was likely lying. However this was not the time for an interrogation. Not when it was likely a trivial matter. Klaus bit his wrist and presented it to her.

"Drink. You're hurt and I'm sure we'll need you at your best."

She hesitated before declining. She was definitely hiding something.

"I'm glad you are well, Freya." He said before turning to leave. He wished to say more, but again stopped himself. Only Hope could see him so weak, so uncontrolled. They must fear him, all of them. It was the only way for the Mikaelsons to survive


End file.
